


Dream of what you like best

by fenrislorsrai



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Sharing a Bed, actually a couch but aziraphale doesn't own a bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27521431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenrislorsrai/pseuds/fenrislorsrai
Summary: Dreams were dangerous. They showed you a world where things were different.  Gave you hope this world couldbedifferent. And it couldn't be.... right up til it suddenlywasdifferent.Aziraphale just really wants to sleep with Crowley and try out thesedreams
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #08 "dream"





	Dream of what you like best

**Author's Note:**

> For soft omens snuggle house Guess the Author prompt: Dream

Dreams were tricky things. Anything could happen. Water could flow uphill. You could dine at a long-closed restaurant. Snakes might sing to you. 

If dreams were just weird or nonsensical, that would be one thing. But the danger was that dream logic was just _there_. It made no sense and perfect sense. It was a reality different than reality but just as real in that moment… and the _feelings_ that went with it seemed so _real_. Even if they weren’t true. Could never be true because they went against what was Written. 

Dreams were a reflection of your own world, full of good and ill. The miracles were self generated and limitless, not monitored and rationed. You were your own _god_ , making your own reality. It was hidden blasphemy. Terrifying dreams were better because they showed you how you had erred in having them at all. Look what would happen if things were not as Written. Good dreams… Those were the dangerous ones because they showed you a version of reality that went against the Word. 

So sleep was for other people. The Guardian of the Eastern Gate must be vigilant. No sleep. No dreams. That Crowley seemed to love sleep just demonstrated he truly was a _demon_. Defiant even in inactivity, rebelliously imagining a different world.. 

Yet, the rare times Crowley slept by him, he wanted to join him. He looked so tempting in his vulnerability. That in sleep he could see a world where an angel watched over him and he was safe from harm. That he sometimes whimpered in his sleep only to still at having a hand laid on him just made it even more tempting to join him. What a lovely world, where an angel’s hand brought peace and contentment. 

Aziraphale could not join him there. But… little snatchs here and there where he _rested his eyes_ for a little bit and saw a different world. That was all he could dare. 

Now though, everything _was_ different. What was Written had been a dream of Heaven and Hell. An unfulfilled one. And now they were _safe_. They could do as they liked. They’d gone to dinner and then back to the shop for a nightcap and more talking. But they were also emotionally wrung out. Crowley was sinking deeper and deeper into the couch and had already pulled his blanket around him. His shoes had vanished somewhere, and his feet rested against Aziraphale’s thigh. He was still sitting up and realized _he didn’t have to be_. 

He toed off his shoes and looked at Crowley’s face, softening as sleep crept up on him. 

“I think… I’d like to lie down. With you. To sleep. To _dream_.” 

Crowley started to say something and instead just lifted up the blanket. Aziraphale gingerly settled next to him and was gently drawn in to lay his head on Crowley’s shoulder. 

“Dream of what you like best.” A return of a blessing he’d laid many times. 

“This. of this.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Author reveals Tuesday November 17th, author will not answer comments before them (but does enjoy them)


End file.
